Word: stools
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...beer glass at him two nights before. By the seventh round Galento was spouting blood, reeling drunkenly, his eyes closed, his head throbbing where he had landed with a running, broad butt at Baer's jaw. When the bell rang for the eighth round, Galento sat on his stool, called it quits...
...arrayed himself, big and burly in a blue suit, charging from one room to another, standing hour after hour answering newsmen, posing for photographers, meeting spectators, delegates, anybody. Even when he dashed out to a corner drugstore for a cheese sandwich, newsmen interviewed him as he perched on a stool. A reporter talked to him while he took a bath...
...President George Washington-set up a three-man patent board: the Secretaries of War and State and the Attorney General. Secretary of State Thomas Jefferson was also keeper of records. His staff was a part-time clerk. An inventor himself (a mold board for plows, revolving chair, combination stool and walking stick), Jefferson read every application that came in. First patent went to one Samuel Hopkins of Vermont for "making pot and pearl ashes." In those days a patent cost about $4. (Now it is $60 plus legal fees.) John Fitch paid $4.39 for his steamboat patent. The part-time...
...South Chicago "riot" on Memorial Day 1937, in which police killed ten pickets at the Republic Steel mill. Mob-size, its cast includes nine dead pickets (who get individual background stories); a young Jewish doctor who rapidly develops from bystander to alarmed social critic; a welter of organizers, stool pigeons, scabs, Senators, professors, company executives, reporters, cops, lawyers. "By using only actual, attested events as materials," says Author Levin, "the writer reduces the possibility of arriving at false conclusions." Far less objective than this apologia suggests, Citizens is an ambitious technical experiment in the "proletarian" novel...
...narrative and limbo-like atmosphere. In The Labyrinthine Ways he finds an almost ideal character for his talents: the last fugitive priest in a hypothetical Red-ruled Mexico. Small, shabby, bad-toothed, alternately disguised as tramp or peon, he cunningly eludes a fanatic young police lieutenant, ditches a burrlike stool pigeon, at last walks deliberately into a trap when he is summoned to hear the confession of a dying gringo bandit...